Winning unintentionally
by writewords
Summary: Sam contemplates her life with Freddie, follows Sam and Freddie through their life until the very end. *oneshot* R


They never had a normal relationship. If relationships were about as normal as water droplets sliding down a window of a car going down the highway, then they were the ones going the opposite way to every other drop of perspiration. This, by some miracle, kept them going for years. She was the one who kept him on his toes, running away while he chased, it was just how they were, and they wouldn't have it any other way. Other people would sigh at their constant banter or full scale yelling, but they would smile back at those times, and remember fondly the long hours after. The ones where he would apologise profusely and she would smile and say awkwardly she was sorry too. All this was bringing up memories that really, were never too far from her mind anyway.

They were 7 when they met, instantly enemies. Now she looks back on it, she reckons she had a crush on him and teasing him was the only way she knew how to show her feelings. In a way, it worked. She had stolen his sandwich, he told his mother, and she hated him for being the cry baby he was.

They were 9 and they both met Carly, who was the girl next door to him, and the best friend to her. He was infatuated with this brunette, who, even at the tender age of 9, exceeded a beauty the blonde could only dream of.

They were 12 and she thanked him for the first time, he'd bought her a smoothie from the newly opened restaurant, and before she even knew it the thank you slipped out of her lips easily. Something she had always had trouble with.

They were 14 and they shared their first kiss 'just to get it over with' a perfect thing for them of course – none of that sappy romance stuff. A lot happened that year. They finally acknowledged themselves as being friends, which made them both happy, though they didn't like to admit it. It was the game they played but didn't mention. No rules, and only for two people.

At 15 he went out with her best friend, Carly, this was when she admitted to herself she had indeed got feelings for him, that they had been there for quite some time, maybe since they met.

At 16 they were a couple for a brief amount of time, blissfully happy, but they weren't ready, even though they loved each other, they broke up.

They were 18, going to college, and they were finally ready for the bumpy road that was to become their relationship.

They were 21, graduating from University, both with good diplomas, his better than hers, though she pretended she didn't care, she didn't really; it was one of those things.

They were 24; he was down on one knee, smiling up at her and asking the question, she had let out an uncharacteristic squeal of yes and flung her arms round his shoulders. They didn't need lights; the grin on both of their faces was enough to light the world.

A year later, Spencer was walking her down the aisle, a fatherly figure to both of them, they wouldn't have anyone else. She had turned when she got to him slightly, looking back at Carly in her bridesmaid dress for reassurance, because she was nervous but so very happy. In a blur they were on their honeymoon, her hands skimming the waves on the boat he had hired for the occasion. That night was perfect, she knew she would never leave him, not that the thought had crossed her mind, even for the briefest second.

They were 27, she was holding their creation in her arms, and he was looking over her shoulder, tears spilling from both their eyes.

They were 30 and a second was there, their first born reaching out his arms in a silent request to hold his little sister. She obliged, laughing slightly as the camera pointed her way and he asked her to say 'cheese,' she still had that photo, somewhere.

The years went by, first days at school, graduation, meeting the girlfriend, meeting the boyfriend, saying goodbye. Suddenly they were on their own again, but they had each other, their kids were happy, they were still young at 54.

They were 60 and they travelled the world, he spoke about 4 different languages, he taught her, complaining she was a slow learner. They laughed so much in that time, they always did.

They were 82, and he was on the hospital bed, heart failing, but she was there, holding tightly to his hand, no tears falling, not wanting to make him more stressed than he was. He died that night, that's when she cried, when she saw the light fade from his eyes. Knowing he couldn't see her anymore, the tears started dripping down her face and she turned to her family, even ones not related and hugged them. She couldn't help thinking it wasn't the same.

She was 86 now, knowing she was on the way out, she didn't mind that much, she would see him again. She knew he would be waiting for her, he always did. She paid the taxi driver and made her way up the stone steps to the graveyard. She made the familiar route she made every day to where he lay last. She stumbled slightly, flowers gripped in her hand; the ones he used to buy her without fail every year on her birthday, despite her protests that it was cheesy. She laid the flowers on the headstone and told him about her day, which was the same as yesterday and the day before, but Freddie wouldn't care just as long as he heard her voice from wherever he was. Sam sighed, yes, there life had been a game, but she wished time and time again that they had tied in the game of life.


End file.
